A Mysteriously Excellent Kay Effector

Guitar players today don’t know how good they have it. Inexpensive guitars imported from outside the U.S. are widely available, dependable, and high quality for the price. Folks in the ’60s and ’70s weren’t so lucky. Most instruments made at beginner-friendly price points by brands like Harmony and Kay were inferior to the Martins and Gibsons they copied, but a top-of-the-line Harmony had high-end features. Once you started looking at models with fancy inlays and multiple pickups, some cost even more than low-end and mid-priced Gibsons. As the popularity of the guitar soared, so did the demand for even cheaper options. Harmony and Kay couldn’t keep up, and American importers noticed an opportunity in Japan. But as the yen gained strength, importers started looking for even lower-cost manufacturing and found it in Korea.A young company called Samick sprang into action. Originally an importer of Baldwin pianos, they rapidly expanded their production capabilities with a factory able to make one million instruments per year. Great news for American importers, but perhaps less great news for American guitar beginners. The market was soon flooded with Korean guitars still in their trial-and-error era. Truss rods were non-adjustable decoration. The finishes were no match for the heat and humidity of container ships. Hardware made from cheap die-cast aluminum was prone to snapping in half. Needless to say, early Korean guitars developed a bad reputation.So when this Samick-made Les Paul copy came through the doors of Fanny’s House of Music, expectations were low. The floppy-looking bolt-on neck and blank headstock trigger a trauma response in guitarists of a certain age. But once you try it, all the bad experiences melt away like so much nitrocellulose on a container ship. The action is extremely low at 2/32', but it somehow still has “resistance” that feels so good—the kind that lets you dig in and get a different sound. The frets are worn but well cared for. Whoever used to own this beauty didn’t let it go too long without a crowning.“Everything about it, we were like, ‘Wait, this shouldn’t be this good!’” Fanny’s owner Pamela Cole says, with a laugh.Kay went under in the late ’60s, and its assets were auctioned off in 1969. The rights to the name were acquired by an importer called Weiss Musical Instruments, whose primary brand was Teisco del Ray. Calling their guitars “Kay” gave them more credibility with dealers, even if the guitars were essentially Teisco del Reys with a different name on the headstock. They certainly didn’t resemble the old Kays one bit. “The hardest thing about adding a 3-way switch would be finding the real estate.”In the Sears catalogue, this model was called the Kay Effector. Its flight-deck-esque array of switches and knobs sits atop a spaghetti plate of cables and components. There are two single-coil pickups in humbucker-sized housing, which are both always on. There’s no pickup selector. Intrepid modders take note: The hardest thing about adding a 3-way switch would be finding the real estate. Included in the flock of switches are one that flips the pickups out of phase (hip!) and one that turns the built-in effects on and off. Only one of the Effector’s effects feels familiar: The fuzz has a Muff-like quality but is more of a distortion than a fuzz. The four modulation effects—echo, tremolo, wah, and the intriguingly-named “whirl wind”—sound similar once you start playing around with them. A poke around the schematic reveals why: All the modulation effects work off the same 2N2646 unijunction transistor, which mega-nerds may recognize from the classic Vox Repeat Percussion. In fact, each modulation effect is the same, hitting different capacitors along the way to give each one a subtly different sound. This author enjoyed “whirl wind” the best, partly because it had the most fun name, but also because it had a dynamic, “reverse-sawtooth” feel.Guitars like this Samick-made Kay Effector are artifacts from a transitional moment in gear history, when manufacturers were learning on the job and players were beta testers. A guitar that once felt like a compromise now feels like a hidden gem. It’s a reminder that innovation and excellence don’t always come from the top shelf. Perhaps the weirdest instruments are some of the best; they just never had a chance to be taken seriously.